


Bite

by misscai



Category: Far Cry 5
Genre: Begging, Blood Kink, Breathplay, F/M, Floor Sex, Masturbation, Naked Female Clothed Male, Rough Sex, Sex Pollen, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-01
Updated: 2018-07-01
Packaged: 2019-05-31 19:19:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,954
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15126167
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misscai/pseuds/misscai
Summary: Rook is bitten by the Judge Cougar, and John tends to her wounds. But the Bliss in her bloodstream from the bite is affecting Rook in ways neither of them expected.





	Bite

“Ow,” Rook grumbled as John prodded her wounds. The Judge cougar had been more of a fight than she’d anticipated, and even with the homeopathics she’d taken, it was faster than she was. Three claw marks raked across her forearm and midsection, and puncture wounds from the cougar’s teeth marred her thigh. John shot her a withering glance, pushing her sleeve up above her elbow so he could clean her arm.

“You should be more careful,” he told her. She bit her lip as the antiseptic stung the raw skin.

“Okay, mom.” He didn’t deign to respond to the sass, although he was perhaps rougher than necessary when he tightened the gauze. Rook hissed, “Asshole.”

“Pain in the ass.” His insult was somehow both softened and sharpened by the smirk he gave her; Rook’s stomach tightened and whoa—it must just be blood loss, right? Surely she was nauseous from seeing her shredded flesh. John’s fingertips brushed over the wound on her side, and even through her shirt Rook could feel the warmth of his touch. She swallowed. “You’re lucky that Faith likes you. And that I happened to be visiting her.” It was true—one of Faith’s devoted had found Rook stumbling along the road, dripping in her own blood and the cougar’s. He’d hoisted her into the bed of his truck, radioing Faith and asking what she wanted to do with the infamous Deputy. Faith had ordered him to take her to wherever he was going, and said that she and John would meet them there. Which is how Rook had come to be at the Sacred Skies Youth Camp, alone in a cabin with John Seed tending to her. He lifted the fabric of her shirt, pressing an alcohol-soaked rag against the wound. Rook wriggled away from the sting, but John just held tighter to her hip to keep her still.

“I knew you’d be there,” she said distractedly, his grip making her insides flutter. When John raised an eyebrow, catching Rook’s gaze with those bright blue irises, Rook could feel her brain turning into a pile of fuzz. “Your song. It says John’s gonna keep us safe. You kept me safe.”

“Your logic is a little flawed.” He pulled the rag away, replacing it with a bandage. His fingers traced the edges of the rectangle, making sure the adhesive was stuck to Rook’s skin. It might as well have been foreplay for how her body was responding. She had to fight the urge to rock her hips against the metal chair he’d seated her in. Once he was satisfied that the scratches were covered, he turned his attention to the bite wound. “I can’t work around all this fabric, or the skin will get infected. Let me go get my knife to cut—”

“Take them off.” Rook’s mind was so muddled now that she hardly recognized the words as her own, let alone how inappropriate they were. All she could think was how handsome John looked with his sleeves rolled up and his tattoos exposed. But he wasn’t _moving_ , wasn’t doing what she’d told him to do, and that was a problem. Rook grabbed his hand, pulling it towards her waistband. “My jeans, take them off.”

“Deputy,” John chided, making a _tsk_ noise, “lust is a sin.”

“I’m a sinner,” she replied as she pressed his palm between her legs, trapping it there and grinding against him. John’s pupils dilated when Rook whimpered. Her vision was filled with little sparkles, all the colors both muted and vibrant at the same time. It felt like the Bliss, but Rook hadn’t been near the flowers. And the Bliss had never made her this desperate. “I feel weird.”

“You’re acting weird.” His eyes narrowed as he observed her. “You said a cougar attacked you?”

“Yeah.” John hadn’t moved his hand, and Rook hadn’t stopped rubbing against it. The friction of skin against denim made her voice breathy. “The Blissed-out one. The experiment.”

“And it bit you?”

“Yeah, yeah—” His knuckle hit her center just right, the seam of her jeans teasing her clit. Rook whined out _“yes!”_ and saw John’s throat bob as he swallowed. But instead of tearing her pants off and taking her right there in the chair—like Rook wanted him to—John jerked his hand away and stalked across the cabin to the table where a radio rested.

“Faith.” Rook tried to focus on his words, but her thighs were clenched tight and John just looked so good and if she tried hard enough she could smell his cologne even over the antiseptic… “Why were the early Judge animals released?”

“The Bliss formula wasn’t perfected,” she replied, innocence and confusion mingling in her voice. “It affected the wrong hormones, and the animals—”

“What would it do to a human?”

“I don’t know; I never tested it on people. Why? What’s going on?”

“The Deputy was bitten by a Judge cougar. She’s…” He glanced over his shoulder at Rook, who practically salivated at the intensity of his blue-eyed gaze. “It’s obviously affecting her, uh… baser instincts.”

“Oh!” Faith giggled, making John scowl. Somehow he was even more handsome that way. Rook managed to unbutton and unzip her jeans, wriggling in the seat enough to slide them down below her hips. She could—and did—slip her fingers beneath her underwear, nearly sobbing with relief when skin met skin. “Well, it’ll wear off eventually. The Bliss isn’t permanent.”

“What am I supposed to be doing until then?” He was grumbling now, petulant like a little child. Rook bit her lip to stifle any noises she was making.

“Follow the word of the Father: love the sinners.” The teasing was obvious in her voice, and without a response John threw the radio carelessly back onto the table. He turned to Rook, but didn’t say a word—couldn’t say a word, because Rook locked her gaze on his, thrust two fingers inside of herself, and finished with a moan of his name.

He was on her in three seconds, holding onto the arms of the chair and leaning into Rook’s face. Their noses were inches apart. Rook curled her fingers, shivering through an aftershock. John’s eyes were dark. “Did you hear Faith?”

“Yes,” she panted, knowing the man’s reaction to the word. Sure enough, there was already a bulge in his pants. “Yes, I heard.”

“Do you want me to stay?”

“Yes.” John smirked, leaning in even closer until he spoke with his lips right against hers.

“Do you want me to fuck you, Deputy?”

_“Yes.”_ She was begging now and she didn’t even care. John trapped her bottom lip between his teeth, biting down just enough to hurt before sliding his tongue into her mouth and kissing her like he wanted to devour her. Rook gasped at the pain of her jeans being ripped away from the wound on her thigh—the blood had clotted, but the swift removal of her pants had torn the scabs off. Fresh blood trickled down her leg.

“Your sin,” John murmured, squeezing her hips tightly and kissing down her throat, “is lust.” He knelt down between her legs and swiped a finger through the blood. Then he lifted her shirt to bare her lower abdomen. “You’ll wear it on your skin,” he told her, writing out the four letters just below her navel. Rook’s eyes rolled back in her head when he blew on the blood, the contrast of warmth and cold sending tingles up her spine. “And then I’ll _take_ it from you.” With that, he licked a stripe up her skin, erasing part of the ‘u.’ Rook’s hand flew to John’s hair, winding through the strands and tugging him closer. John acquiesced, keeping his mouth on her stomach and following the pattern of the word. He licked, bit, and sucked bruises into her skin until all that was left behind was a patch of red from John’s beard and teeth.

“John,” Rook moaned, lifting one leg up over his shoulder and pressing her ankle into his back. With a noise close to a growl, John pulled Rook onto the floor, kicking the chair away as he climbed on top of her. He wrestled her shirt off of her torso—a task made harder by the way Rook was clawing at his belt buckle.

“You want me,” he said. Her bra disappeared, the fabric cups replaced by John’s hands. He caught her nipple between two fingers, twisting it harshly.

“Yes!” The belt clicked free, but Rook didn’t bother pulling it out of John’s pants. Rather, she just worked his button and zipper open, shoving his pants and briefs down below his backside. His cock sprang free, red and weeping. Rook felt her own tears of relief prickling at the corners of her eyes.

“You _need_ me.” John sucked a bruise on the underside of one breast, his fingers rubbing the wet spot on Rook’s underwear.

“Yes,” Rook babbled, “yes, yes, yes, yes!”

“Say it.” He pushed her underwear to the side, lining up the head of his cock with her entrance.

“I need you.”

_“Louder.”_

“I need you, John, I need you, _please!”_ With a relieved moan of his own, John slid inside of her, right to the hilt. He didn’t give her any time to adjust, either, his hips drawing back and snapping forward with enough force to jostle Rook’s entire body. She just held on for dear life, her blunt nails clawing at John’s back, her thighs clenched around his hipbones in a way that would be sure to leave bruises on her skin.

“You’ll cum for me,” he demanded, locking eyes with her. Rook nodded helplessly, her stomach already tightening in anticipation for his command. He slowed his speed but made his thrusts even rougher, driving the breath out of Rook’s lungs. “Now.” She shattered around him, her legs shaking.

John slipped out of her, flipping her onto her stomach and hauling her hips up until she could get her knees beneath her. Then he slid back inside, the new angle making Rook shout with pleasure and overstimulation. She rocked against him, uncertain of whether she was trying to get away or get closer. John gripped onto her uninjured thigh as he pistoned in and out. His free hand pressed between her shoulder blades, forcing her torso towards the floor. It was hard for Rook to breathe, but the watery feeling of her oxygen-starved brain combined with the aphrodisiac Bliss and just heightened the entire experience. Tears leaked from her eyes as she felt a third orgasm creeping up.

“John,” she gasped, “oh, John, I’m close.”

“Yes,” he growled, his hand inching around to rest over her throat—not squeezing, but providing enough pressure that Rook whined and fell apart yet again. This time John did the same, collapsing onto her back as he finished deep within her. Rook shifted when she felt John’s softened cock slide out of her, pressing her thighs together, feeling the wetness there. John, having caught his breath, rolled onto his back beside her. Rook couldn’t help but giggle. He shot her a glance.

“Sinner,” she teased.

“Snake,” he replied, then wrinkled his nose. “You smell.”

“Gee, I wonder why.” She was muddy, bloody, shining with sweat, covered in bruises, doused in antiseptic, leaking both his and her own fluids. “I’ll shower, but you have to help me walk. Otherwise I'll be crawling to the bathroom.”

“No.” He stood, adjusting his shirt and tucking himself back into his pants, smoothing his hair down with a smirk on his face. “That’s your penance for your sin, Deputy. After all, the best place to atone is on your knees.”


End file.
